This Terrible Instinct
by ACryptic
Summary: Garrus has trouble accepting Shepard's death, and the dreams that start plaguing him feel so real. Almost too real. And the call of the white waters seem overpowering... Rated T for now. Set after the Destroy Ending.
1. Not Fit For Mourning

It's been quite a while since it all happened… A lot has gone sideways. To think of it, others are celebrating a well-fought battle, they see it as a job _well done_, but I admit, I can hardly bring myself to feel the sense of victory. After all _she_ had done, I should value her sacrifice, but my hands fall limp. Sometimes I remember my resolve that took upon the form of unwavering need for justice at all costs, all those times I shot one merc after another adding them to my kill count under the name they gave me – Archangel. Yes, it gave me power over my own fate – I felt strong, able to will my thoughts to comply… A dark skinned human male, one of those that bothered to talk to a Turian without as much as a sneer, once told me that angels were looked upon as protectors, and archangels were of a higher hierarchy. Now, after the war, when galaxy is in shambles, it does not matter what they call me anymore. I could stand to lose my honour, but to be consumed with this bitter feeling of failure…

Months have passed since we, _she_, killed the Reapers. At first, it came as a sense of numbness, a silent nod and acceptance that in certain circumstances _you cannot wish for more._ But time has started to slow down, reducing itself to a crawl of one of those almost dead husks that weakly reached for us before receiving a shot in the head. I felt trapped with my own thoughts, no longer being able to divert them, having no control of them as they nipped at my brain, replaying memories and, worst of all, pulling me out of my silent acceptance. It did not rush at me as a psyched varren (I wished it did – I might have had a chance to stop it, shake it off), but it was slow – it seeped into me, drip by drip, until I was practically banging my fingers on the console during the calibrations in a futile attempt to scatter the thoughts. The tedious job used to take my mind off of things, but now I could feel my attention being pulled from it more and more often.

I can't exactly tell when it began, although the breaking point is clearly marked in my mind. More than six weeks have passed since we held a memorial for Shepard. The life in the Normandy has not fallen back into the usual routine just yet, as we all, I am sure of it, have felt a gaping emptiness. She had been that string that tied us together; I have found out how true that was after the original Normandy has been destroyed and we all fell apart. But now, even though we all were still here, there was more silence than words that accompanied the breakfasts, lunches and suppers at the mess hall.

And one day, during the usual few-words-in-between breakfast, with Vega and Tali skipping it as had become the usual, Liara has brought up a real conversation.

"I think we ought to search for a new captain."

A dead silence fell on the group, and I joined into it, paralyzed mid sip of the dextro coffee.

"Why would we need a new…" Joker trailed off. Shepard was never really only a captain. There was more to it than a title, a job, a leading position. "I mean, it's not like we have assignments right now with all this mess."

Looking back, it was clear that it wasn't simply a denial of practicality of having a captain. A cruiser like the Normandy did need a captain. But what he didn't voice out was how blasphemous it would be to have someone else other than Shepard stand over the galaxy map.

Liara carefully chose her words as she began. "I know how this sounds, Joker, but this needs stability. It's not like I am not asking to throw Shepard's things out. What I am saying is that right now, we lack a goal."

She was right, I knew she was. But as others contemplated what she had said, I slammed my cup down, and bit out. "If that's the case, why don't we look for her?"

Where did my acceptance of her death go? I was plagued with abstract feelings that I couldn't put down into real and meaningful words for what seemed like ages. But now, I did.

I do not know what it was, but after the war, we fell into a drift. All that mattered now was to acquire supplies, and figure out a way to get from system to system. A persistent question of 'now what?' plagued our minds.

"Garrus," Liara met my gaze "what I meant to say is that it is best we began to move on."

"Dammit, people! In what point of time did we give up on her?!" I growled, mandibles flaring. What the hell is wrong with me? I felt like I was woken up from a coma, world twirling…

A hand softly landed on my shoulder, but my mind was still reeling. Kaidan. A confused look on his face, and something sad, understanding in his features. Did he feel the same way, all those years back, when the blackness of space took Shepard from him?

I looked at Joker, but he avoided eye contact. Traynor opened her mouth so say something, but apparently, the words died in her mouth.

"You can't be serious."

Liara sighed and hung her head. Something about that gesture filled me with bubbling hot emotion.

"To hell with moving on! It's Shepard we are talking about! No one has confirmed her death-" I stood up, palms pressing down on the table.

"Garrus, no one, even Shepard, could have survived the blast. The Citadel has been searched through and through. We must _let go_." Kaidan stressed the last two words.

I "tch'ed" - a sound that was more appropriate for indignation, rather than helplessness. Yes, I began to let go, but somehow, the process came to a stop and then slowly turned into denial. I was not fit for mourning.


	2. White Waters

**And so it begins! **

**I do not own Mass Effect nor its characters.**

* * *

_Lightness washes over me; something similar to that moment when the heavy armor relinquishes its hold of my body. For a second, I am struck with a sense of floating and this forces my eyes open like a distant gunshot during my days in Omega – they made me jumpy. But right now, my feet were firmly planted on the ground and I was met with a spectacular view. The darkness of the night spread out above me, gigantic trees reached up as if to support the sky… A moon hung low and close; just like on Palaven. _

_The wind blew at my back, as if urging me to go forward and I complied. My legs carried me faster than I remember them usually being capable of doing. I rushed past the trees, not minding one bit of the thin branches brushing against the plates on my arms. I managed to squeeze through the thick bushes of spade-shaped leaves and found myself in a clearing. Up ahead there was a hill, and the moon rose behind it, inviting me in. Slowly, my feet being cushioned by soft grass and something else… something gritty, I climbed up. The wind engulfed me, knocking the breath right out of me…Or was it the view below that paralyzed me? _

_It was if I was standing upon a dune, looking at… at a white sea? I bent over to examine the ground, my hands cupping sand that ran through my fingers. It felt cool to the touch as I grabbed handfuls of sand again and again only having them escape my grip with ease. The harder I clenched it, the faster it ran through the cracks. _

_I stood up, legs suddenly shaky, and made my way down to greet the white waters. As I closed in, I noticed that the wind has abandoned me, with silence descending upon the place. The water was as still as a mirror, not a single wave was to be seen. The moon created the illusion of being dipped into the sea. _

_I looked around and saw, to my right, quite a distance from me, a silhouette, moving as if it was made out of liquid. I cursed my lack of visor as I couldn't identify who was there. Suddenly, I had a sinking feeling and looked down at myself. Not a single piece of fabric covered me. If a turian could blush, I would have done just that. Now, I was hesitant to approach the figure. Alas, the wind picked up again, urging me on once more and funnily, I complied. Step by step I walked to the silhouette, each meter sharpening its features, until I knew for certain that this was not a fellow turian. 'A human female… No…'_

_Long hair swished at her back. 'She had short hair. Just below her ears. It always grew out, but she would cut it. Something about it getting in the way. But I always loved it the most just a few weeks before she returned it to its previous length. The fact that it grew was enough to mesmerize me.'_

_I was so sure that it was her, that I didn't even need to see her face. But when she turned around, my heart swelled up, hand instinctively reached forward to touch her. Her eyes slowly traveled up to see mine, smile not yet on her lips. And when it blossomed, it was sad and sorrowful. My mouth felt dry as she stepped back, again and again. _

_"Iris…"_

_The brown eyes that I knew so well glazed over. "You know my name…"_

_"Of course I do. You hid it so much from me, like a hanar protecting its soul name." I attempted to chuckle, but all that came out was a low rumble, sub-vocals betraying my fear. Yet, she was not a turian, she wouldn't know. _

_I wanted to fill the gap between us, but a force held us apart. Iris turned her head to look at the white sea, her hip length hair following her movements. I felt my mandibles flare…An almost see-through cloth covered her, clung to her full hips and toned belly. _

_When she looked back at me, her chin was raised higher, gaze harder. _

_"You shouldn't be here" she stated simply. _

_"I was supposed to be there with you, limp with you all the way to that beam. I was supposed to meet you at the bar…" I replied. _

_Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Iris rushed to the water. _

_"Iris! Damn it. Iris!" _

_She was already waist deep. I stepped in, too, feeling its weight as I got in deeper. Iris was already quite a distance from me. When the water reached up to my mandibles, I saw her disappear under. 'Shit, I can't swim.' But suddenly, I was engulfed with the liquid and I could only squirm as I sank further and further down._

* * *

I jumped up in my bed, gasping for air. I was drowning... I felt like I was drowning. The silent hum reminded me that I was still on the Normandy. Taking a look around, making sure that my sniper rifle was still there, I sank back down, head hitting on the pillow. "What the hell..." I always hoped for the worst in my dreams, but now, I was confused and disorientated. She was there, almost as solid as life. And yet, she barely recognized me. The price of seeing her... Even in the dreamworld you have to pay something. "Spirits..."

The chatter outside the main battery increased. I overslept.

* * *

**A bit short, this one. But we are getting there! Garrus is sure to be in for one heck of a mind-twisting ride! :D**


	3. Noise Is Not An Option

_"Everybody loves stars _  
_ Everyone fell _  
_ Into her world she made here _  
_ Where innocence is taken _  
_ But I don't care _  
_ Cause it's her world, she made me" - Cold - Confession _

* * *

I never thought that I would be longing for noise so much. But as soon as I stepped out of the main battery, people began to fall quiet. Sad looks seeped into the bleary eyes of a few crew members, while others simply shuffled on, getting back to work.

The silence at the breakfast table was more awkward than before. Liara avoided looking at me as I walked past the group to the kitchen. Honestly, after what has been said yesterday, I considered skipping breakfast altogether. But the pounding headache called for a cup of coffee, so I gave in.

Opening the cupboard, I reached for my favorite blue cup, catching the glimpse of Shepard's glass mug. It was a joyful little thing – checkered, with each little square being a different colour of stained glass. It did not appear to have a pattern and simply looked random. I traced the cracked places. It still looked sturdy, even if a little weathered down. _Just like Iris._ I sighed, pushed her mug into the depths of the cupboard and grabbed mine, filling it with hot, brown and aromatic liquid. _That's what I need. A kick in the head. I wonder if I can make this coffee even stronger…_ I felt a pair of eyes on my back. _Probably Liara…_

However, when I turned around, it was Tali. I couldn't exactly see her gaze, but her head was slightly tilted in my direction. As I walked towards the table, Joker shot a few glances at me. I resisted the urge to slam my cup on the white metallic surface. _These looks that I'm getting reek of pity. What is it with these people?_

Grunting, I sat down, pulling the cup towards me feeling the steam swirling up and touching my face, taking in the smell of coffee that it brought. A few deep breaths later, my mind cleared up. _What are we doing here? Playing crew, trying to make it all work out. It won't ever be the same…_

So we sat there, in silence. Liara was typing something on her datapad. _It must be hard, restoring all the connections and getting back into the picture as a Shadow Broker_. She did not seemed fazed that I openly watched her work, thin blue fingers, _five_, running around the blue screen, tapping away. I shifted my focus to Tali. Funny enough, I never saw her eat anything. I knew she had to, but maybe it's a quarian thing. _For all I know, she could be eating through a straw_. My thoughts felt biting, trimmed with apathy. _It won't be long until I start speaking like an elcor. Slightly exasperated: I hate this silence._ Tali also seemed preoccupied, the only difference being that she was tapping at her omni-tool. _Everyone is lost in their little worlds. _

Joker, who was sitting in front of me, was poking new holes with his fork into what seemed an omelette.

"Hey, Joker. How are you doing?" I asked, suddenly feeling like I was standing in front of a group of varren, with one thermal clip left. _Who knew that trying to break a silence would feel so daunting._

He looked up at me, finally breaking off a piece of his omelette and sticking it in his mouth.

"The same as you, Garrus" he muttered.

"You sure you feel that shitty? We could have a competition…Never mind" I finished, noticing his sour face. _His nickname does not suit him anymore._

I was being insensitive and I knew that. The crew knew, more or less, what was happening between Joker and EDI, though the couple never talked about it. Some of the more slightly oblivious remarks from EDI gave me a clearer view of their relationship, but it was still something that Joker tended to brush off. And now, more than ever.

After the Crucible was activated, all of our minds went to two things: escaping the blast and Shepard. When we took care of the former, we started mourning the latter. _Or, at least, they did. _Little did I know, however, that a certain pilot, the best one out there, was crying over something else that he had lost. Rather, a certain someone. We found him, bent over the limp mechanic body. How do you check if she's alive? You don't press your ear to her chest. She doesn't have a pulse. The little gears stopped turning…

The Normandy fell even more silent. Joker withdrew into himself – no more funny remarks on the comm. Just a man, at the end of the bridge, steering the Normandy with painful patience. No more quips from EDI. The Normandy became a clump of humming, clicking, and occasional creaking. _Like any other ordinary ship._ I felt like we have been stripped of all that made us unique – an unshackled AI, a crew that moved like one entity, and our Shepard – the captain of the ship. _My Iris… _That one person who made all of our hearts move like one. _Spirits, when did I start to think of her in a past tense?_

The hours went by. We had landed in one of the habitable planets to stretch our legs and get some sunshine. I took the elevator down to the armoury, _you would think that I would hate this elevator a little bit less now, since there's no rush. _

James Vega was doing push-ups with a more ferocity than usual. He didn't seem to notice when I walked up to him, but shot his eyes up when I placed two bottles of water on the table next to him and what had looked like a wrapped up sandwich.

"Hey, Scars!" he stood up, glancing at what I had brought. "What's with the care package?" _He's still got it in him_.

"Ah, well, you see Traynor was worried that you didn't eat anything, so she asked me if I would bring the sandwich that she made for you." I said, keeping back the chuckle.

Vega looked at me weirdly, making me raise my hands up jokingly. "Now, now. Nothing dextro in it, I swear."

As he bit into the sandwich, _honestly, he should haul up his ass to the mess hall from time to time. I almost miss the smell of that spicy whatever-the-hell-it-was he used to make,_ we chit chatted for a while. Like the rest of the crew, he was much like a badly wired up console – not quite the same.

"What's with the loss of appetite, James?" I asked.

He looked up at me, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Garrus. What's happening with you?" He answered the question with a question, taking a few gulps of water. _Me?_

"Liara told me that you've been acting loco. As in, more crazy than usual. Spacing out… that kind of stuff."

There was a pause before I answered.

"Did she diagnose me with something else, too? Did she mention Shepard anywhere in there?" I could feel myself heating up. _Do I seem crazy to them now?_

"Whoa, Scars, slow down. Dios mio, she only mentioned that you looked troubled." It was James' turn to raise his hands, but now, it was in a truly defensive manner. He stopped, as if waiting for me to react, before adding, "And she said that you believe that Shepard might be alive."

_So that's how it is…_

"Don't you, Vega?"

His shoulders slumped a bit, he looked more serious and deep in thought.

"Listen. I want to believe. But I don't want to live with any hopes up. We could start looking for her, but what if we don't find her? It's like losing her all over again."

_At least he's sincere about it. But…_

"It's like everybody cared for her only because of this mission. Because she was the only one capable of defeating the Reapers. And when she does – it seems that everyone is happy with building monuments for her, letting her settle in the history books as a hero, and completely forgetting that she was more than a Commander Shepard. She's Iris Shepard – an incredible woman that had faith in all of us." I turned around, not being able to stand the unwavering gaze of James as I spilled my heart out. "We don't live up to her faith in us. We got through this and left her behind. _I _left her behind! " The last words came out with a growl, and I was glad that James couldn't see the pain and anguish which my sub-vocals betrayed.

James sighed. "Don't beat yourself over it, Scars. Easy to say that, I know, but try to breathe, okay?" He looked a bit lost, probably thinking something over as he patted my shoulder and walked away.

I stood there for a minute, listening to the hum and that distinct sound of a ship – like a silent roar. _Still not enough noise to drown out my thoughts._ Walking up to the work bench, I grabbed a spare sniper scope.

_Breathing would be easier if I wasn't drowning. Iris… You were the only thing worth fighting for in this damned galaxy._

* * *

**And there you have it! I wonder if Garrus will move the crew to believe him. Also, some people said that EDI was not supposed to die if you chose the "Destroy the Reapers" ending, but I kind of went with the fact that it's possible that she died. She's not an organic, is she?  
I have the plot written out in steps, so I'm trying to fill in the blanks. **

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	4. Across The Sea

_A gush of wind violently lashed at my face. The whistling sound that it made was painfully familiar to me. I didn't even need to open my eyes to know where I was again. Where I thought I was. 'Another bittersweet pill for me to swallow? Fantastic'. I cracked one of my eyes open, ever so slowly. And I was met with the same scenery that has been haunting my dreams for several nights now. It has become so well-known to me that somewhere along the way I had adopted lucidity of sorts. It wasn't perfect, but at least I didn't have to stand stark naked anymore. So when I was hit with another bout of wind that has become increasingly chilly with every night ('Not much room for comparison, but that's my guess'), I willed a simple outfit to clothe myself with. That's as much as I could do. _

_Night after night I would rush to the beach and the white waters. Each and every time I would have a few moments with her until she once again turned her face to the sea. In a blink of an eye, her movements blurry, she would be wading into the water and I would run after her. Her head would disappear under the surface, creating little waves that hit my neck as I rush forward. I would drown, without fail, the only difference being the increasing length of time before the waking world released me from the agony of my lungs filling with water, hands grasping at nothing until my airway closes up._

_'I can make this different. I may not see her this time, but it's a price I must pay.'_

_I turn my back to the gigantic full moon, the looming trees, and the greater possibility of seeing Iris. I am met with a view not that much different from the last one, though now I am accompanied by my lanky shadow. 'Okay feet, we can do this.'_

_It turned out to be that one stride down my usual route would achieve a greater speed and cover more distance than walking down this new path. My legs suddenly felt heavy. 'Just like that first time when I tried on the heavy armour. Effective, yes, but the damn thing weights a ton.' _

_I trudged on, the wind changing direction and lashing at my face again. 'Bastard.' I squinted my eyes and saw a steep little hill in the distance. Looking around I noted that it was my obstacle and that the only possible way forward was to climb it. The hill seemed to grow bigger and steeper as I approached it, now resembling a tilted wall of dirt and grass. _

_Taking a quick breath, I began the arduous ascension. Halfway up, I lost the grip with one of my talons, dirt breaking off and raining down on me, and almost tumbled down. For a moment, I hung there with one arm before swinging up the other one with a grunt. The time seemed to stretch into eternity. _

_Finally, I dragged myself up to the top, slightly swaying as I stood up. Out there before me stretched… the sea? 'Wait a sec, is this an island?'. Straining to see, I noticed a few more small islands in the distance. I went down to greet the sea, my feet sliding slightly in the sand. The ground leveled out. 'The air here smells different. Slightly salty…'_

_Doing a 360 turn, I took in the landscape. 'So what now?'. _

_Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a humanoid creature to my left. It stood too far for me to make out any particular features. It didn't look like her, though._

_I broke into a run, legs feeling slightly more lighter._

_"Hey! You there!"_

_The creature seemed to hear me as it started running, from me, that is. I picked up the pace, trying my very best to catch up, but the sand slowed me down, sliding from my under my feet. _

_When I got close enough, the creature seemed oddly familiar. Wanting to put my curiosity to rest, I gave a burst of speed and tackled it to the ground. I got a mouthful of sand in the process, which I spat out not only in disgust, but also in surprise. _

_"Thane?" 'What the…'_

_I stood up, hesitating a little before I stretched out my hand to help him up. 'This is seriously messed up.'_

_"I'm just as surprised as you are, Garrus." He replied, smiling. "Though, I have a feeling of why you are here."_

_"Wha-. I don't… What is this mess?" I was at loss for words. 'This is probably as far as any weird dream has ever gotten.'_

_"You're here for Shepard, aren't you?" Thane went on, unfazed, despite his claims of being surprised. I only nodded, not sure what else to say._

_""I will wait for you across the sea"" He said. After a brief pause, he continued, "I never got to tell her that." _

_'I didn't know he…Well, that explains a lot of things. But not this dream.'_

_"Is this a dream?" I suddenly asked, trying to set all the facts straight._

_Thane looked at the sea, before replying "I can neither confirm nor disprove this. It is beyond my comprehension." He turned his eyes back on me, "All I can say is that you and Shepard shouldn't be here."_

_Thane started walking towards the water and I had a sinking feeling of what might happen next. However, he stood just a few inches from the edge. Placing his hands behind his back, one catching the wrist of the other, he simply said "The sea rejects you, but it calls to her. She's close to it, whereas you cannot pass on. He turned to me as he spoke the last words._

_'Wait… I don't understand.'_

_Then it dawned on me. The most ridiculous thing – that everyone could have been telling the truth. That… 'She might be dead.'_

_I couldn't accept it. I was envious of the ease with which others managed to move on, leaving me there, the sole believer. _

_'No, this can't be right.'_

_I strode up to Thane, grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him to me. "If you are here, and she is here… Then- then she is dead, right?" my words carried a bit higher than a whisper. "But why am I here, then?"_

_"Her mind has forgotten what life is. Help her remember and you might have a chance of saving her. This I know."_

_"You are not Thane, are you?" I let go of him and stepped back._

_"I am Thane Krios. But I have no way of proving it." He dipped a toe in the water. "Actually, it doesn't really matter."_

_'It doesn't.'_

_I focused my gaze on the sand. "How do I save her? How do I get Iris back, Thane?" I didn't care that my voice croaked, and that my limbs went weak._

"_She needs resolve to live. The past is not worth living for if there is no future." Thane was now waist deep in water._

_I felt my time running out, and called for one more question "But how do I find her? Outside this dream?"_

_A quiet splash was my only answer as Thane disappeared under the surface._

_'Great. I should have asked this first.'_

_Nevertheless, I was both thankful and more than confused. If I believe Thane, then there is still hope. But it sounded too good to be true. How could I take this dream, or whatever the heck it was, as a real thing? When I wake up, the physics of the dream will die with my last bit of faith._

_'I have nothing else to hope for, so I might as well take the leap. This has already exceeded the limits of a mere dream.'_

* * *

**Whew! This story will be all mystery and stuff. A lot of questions, not enough answers. And a bunch of dream sequences. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	5. Black Eyes

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the main battery. I blinked a few times to focus my gaze, but it was still blurry. With a silent groan I rolled over on my right side, letting the left arm hang limply over the side of the bed. I shifted again, searching for a colder spot on my pillow. _It's too warm in here…_ Languidly, I reached for my omni-tool. _Huh. It's still too early to get up. My heart rate is a bit high._ A click and the orange screen vanished from view. _What now?_

I could no longer ignore these… these 'dreams'. _They are too real. Too vivid._ But what could I do with them? If Thane was right, Iris is still alive and I might have a chance to save them. _There are too many unknowns. How do I even begin to comprehend this?_ But what if this is all just a joke? A trick that my broken mind is pulling on me? _What if they were right about me going crazy? Imagine their faces if I told them about what I see every night. Good thing that Javik isn't here to throw me out of the airlock._

_Javik…_

That's right. He didn't make it. Or, I should say, he chose not to make it. Just before we stepped into our final battle, Iris took me aside for a few minutes.

"I know that it is his decision, Garrus. But I just can't bear the thought of letting him blow his head off. I can't." She told me then, eyes focused on something in the distance before she let them slide over my face, taking in my reaction. "I just keep telling myself that maybe it will be for the better if he finally finds his peace. The universe, I imagine, is damn lonely when you are the only living Prothean."

"And he won't be threatening to involve us in any if his culinary activities, too." I tried to lighten up the mood, and my hand instinctively rested on her shoulder.

A faint glimmer returned to her eyes as she smiled. We stood side by side as the world fell down.

We all were still recovering from shock, adrenaline and emotions when the Reapers were destroyed. Some have begun their mourning, others were still gathering their wits. So it was not a huge surprise that no one had noticed that one of the escape pods has vanished. It was only when Cortez informed the crew of its disappearance did we began our search. Javik was not often seen in the upper decks, so many thought that he was simply too lost in thought. But I had that sinking feeling that he did what he had told Shepard about.

I shared my suspicions with the rest of the crew, and when me and James stepped into port cargo, we knew for sure. To put our minds at a complete rest, Javik had left a datapad with a simple letter addressed to all of us. It began with his annoyance that he had to type it all out, setting a lighter note upon the whole matter. Javik wrote about honor that he didn't think he would see in such 'primitives' as us, and that he was grateful to have been given the chance to settle the score with the Reapers. He even admitted that he admired us, most of all Shepard. Javik spoke of living on borrowed time and that he must join his fellow Protheans. 'The galaxy has seen the last Prothean fight. The history is now complete.' were his last words. However, I couldn't help but notice another datapad, slightly hidden from view. The contents were addressed to Liara. I refrained from reading it and handed it to her. She quickly skimmed through the text and smiled. Apparently, as she told me later, Javik put down whatever he knew about the Prothean culture and history. He wrote that she should thank Shepard, because if it weren't for her, he would have never disturbed the memories contained in that odd looking shard.

And that was it. We didn't hear about him or from him ever since. Honestly, we never even looked. Something in his words rang with firmness and determination. That he was sure of what he wanted, and we honored his decision.

_What about Iris? 'No one gets left behind'. That's what she used to tell us. Was she so sure of her own decision? It must have taken great strength to do what she did. I always knew my girl had it in her…_

My senses returned to the present as I slowly sat up, taking my face in my hands. I didn't want to get up – lying back down and drifting off to sleep seemed like a reasonable idea now. At least it has a higher chance of providing me with some answers. _There's got to be something left behind for me to figure out. Even Javik left some information for Liara to piece together and fill the missing gaps of Prothean history._

Then it hit me.

Telling someone about my dreams would definitely classify me as crazy. But showing them is a whole other idea. And it so happens that we have a very skilled asari on board.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my clothes and dressed haphazardly, not really caring how disheveled I looked. I burst through the door and stalked down to the mess hall. Only when I stood inches from entering Liara's office did I realize that she must be sleeping. _If I barge in on her, I will probably give the wrong impression. _

I was about to turn around and walk away, when the door opened with a silent whoosh.

"Come in, Garrus. I was up and could hear your footsteps." Liara called from her desk, her eyes still glued to the screens that occupied most of the left wall. Some of them were dark, while others occasionally whirred and flashed.

I walked towards Liara, feeling a bit foolish that I acted so impulsively. _Just how exactly am I supposed to go through the first couple of sentences without sounding like a lunatic?_

But, it appears, Liara was in the mood to talk. She beckoned me to sit next to her, while she still looked at the screens, chin on top of her entwined hands. Moments passed before she sighed and turned fully to me.

"I miss her, Garrus." She began, voice barely above a whisper. "I cannot even begin to imagine how you must feel. Goddess, I was such a fool to suggest that we find a new captain."

I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her that it's alright, however, she had not yet finished. There was nothing really to forgive, but I felt like she wanted to say it anyways.

"We will never move on, will we?" She glanced at me for a moment, before burying her face in her palms.

Voice muffled, she continued. "How does one go about living on? She shone during the darkest times, and kept us together when nothing else seemed to matter. We achieved more than anyone else could have ever wanted." I saw a tear seep through her fingers, glinting on her skin.

Liara swiveled around in her chair and stood up, her back turned to me.

"The victory feels like a far away memory now. She's not here and the world seems bitter." She hung her head a bit, then faced me again, tears all dried up.

"Why did her luck ran out at that very moment, Garrus?"

A lump formed in my throat. _Maybe she still has some left, Liara…_

She sat back down, a shuddering sigh escaping her.

"What if she's still alive?" I began. _Better choose the right words. How about I just cut to the chase._ "There's something crazy I must show you." _Did I have to use the word 'crazy'?_

I don't know what it was, but when Liara looked at me, I saw that she actually wanted to believe. Something in those blue eyes caught at my words like they were the last slimmer of hope.

"I don't exactly know how this works, so you'll have to lead the way." I said.

"I'm not sure what you are trying to say, Garrus…" She furrowed her eyebrows.

My shoulders slumped, I leaned a bit forward. "Remember those times when you mind melded with Shepard? Well, I've been having some weird…dreams lately."

"So you want me to see them by forming a mental connection with you?"

"Exactly."

Liara seemed to be contemplating; her gaze became distant as she weighed her thoughts. Then, her hands dropped to her sides and she stood up.

"I didn't want to listen to you, the last time you talked about the chance of Shepard being alive. I was afraid that the hope would cling to me and I will never move on." Liara motioned me to stand up. "But now I know that I will never do so anyways."

"Are you ready, Garrus?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I am." I was slightly nervous, though. _I hope this is a good idea._

Liara half-smiled before she looked me dead in the eye and the world seemed to slow to a stop. Her eyes shifted from blue to black, the dark color swallowing her pupils and whites.

"Relax and… Embrace eternity."

For a moment, it felt something like blacking out after a hard blow to the head. But as the dizzying feeling faded away, I was aware of the thoughts and memories that buzzed by, leaving behind trails of laughter, anguish, rage filled screams, and eventually silence. Likewise, the images pooled into one and I could barely recognize them myself. My mind felt like a mess, each memory trying to grab at me and pull me closer. It was simply overwhelming.

I guessed that Liara was working somewhere in there, as I couldn't see her. As moments passed, I felt her dig in deeper and I bit back a yelp at her invasive maneuvers. It was almost like she was frantic, tossing around all that lied in my head with feverish motions. I was thrown into my days as a C-Sec officer, only to be pulled back into the memories of my childhood – mother's hand on my head after I showed her the great results of the first few weeks of my training.

In a split second, everything slowed down again, the view in front of me darkened. I shook my head to clear my vision and found myself in the dream that haunted me each and every night.

I was about to shout to Liara, that this is what she was looking for, but, apparently she already knew. It felt like she was fast forwarding through the whole collection, stopping for a split second to take in a few details, lingering on the parts where Iris appeared, and taking her time to take in what Thane had said.

Abruptly, I was thrown back into reality. We both swayed on our feet and collapsed on the chairs. Liara panted like she had run a marathon, while I noticed that my hands were shaking. She gazed at me in a silent apology that didn't last long.

"She's alive."

* * *

**Aaaand there we have it! Will they tell the other crew members about it? Knowing that Shepard is alive is one thing, but where is she? **


	6. Hope Reborn

_"the natural life  
you're born, you die  
the natural life  
you're wrong, you're right  
the natural life  
you're born, you die  
the natural life's a lie" - Breaking Benjamin - Natural Life_

* * *

_Did I hear her correctly? Iris is alive…?_ _But…_

I leaned back, my mind once again spinning. Surely, it shouldn't be so hard to accept that, now that the facts are glaring in my face. I felt my stomach clench and heart race. It was so natural to cling so strongly to hope now, simply give into that elating feeling that everything is going to be all right. _I'll see her again… Her face will be clear in the light of the waking world. _The dreams clouded her features, her voice sounded colorless. She was simply a shell of the real, alive and kicking Shepard. My chest tightened, as I remembered the very first dream of her. It felt like someone dumped cold water on me – she was not my Iris. It was just like seeing her clone all that time ago – everything looked the same except for that bit that made Iris, well, Iris. _That made me fall in love with her._

I cleared my thoughts to address the matter at hand. _How did Liara determine that Iris was alive? _

Raising my head, I looked at her, before speaking.

"How do you know that? I want to be sure." If she could hear my subvocals, she would definitely have noticed the mix of hope and fear that reverberated in my throat.

Liara gazed back at me for a moment. "I am not quite sure myself. It's just that…" she adjusted herself in her chair "Dreams work in a simple manner. Your brain uses them to keep your consciousness occupied while it does its job at sorting through all the information that you acquired that day, organizing and storing everything. It also looks through all that you previously have learned and makes adjustments."

I sighed and interrupted her "You're starting as far away from the point as possible, aren't you?"

That only got me a slightly raised eyebrow, before she continued "Not exactly, Garrus. What I am trying to say is that dreams usually reflect what you know. This is not always the case, but usually dreams are created from the material that you already have inside your brain. While the same could, in a way, be applied to your situation, I don't think that it would be right."

Liara leaned in, linking her fingers. I had a few seconds to try to piece the information and see why it should be relevant to me, when she carried on.

"Your dreams don't seem to be linked that much with your memories and all that you know."

I had a flash of understanding what she meant, before I lost it. _I still don't get it._

"Wait. I know Iris and I know Thane. Surely, the landscape can be from one of countless planets that we visited during our missions." I waved one of my hands in the air, trying to make sense of it all. _Maybe showing her my dreams wasn't such a good idea._

Liara sighed, slight exasperation marking her voice as she spoke.

"I think, Thane has never told you about drell religion. That they believe that they will meet their dead loved ones 'across the sea'."

"No… He didn't." _What the…_

Liara half-smiled, _no one really has the emotional capacity for a full blown smile these days_. "See… That's a fact that you didn't know, but it appeared in your dreams. Actually, I'm very interested in why these dreams are not only so persistent, but they also have a certain continuity."

Her next words seemed to carry over my head, as I was so deep in thought. But as soon as they registered, I sat up straighter.

"What did you say?" I asked, an odd feeling settling in. And that certain spark of anxiety joined it soon after.

"I said, that I had felt a presence of someone else inside your mind. " Her voice careful, words uttered slowly and steadily.

"Wha-?" _The hell? I'm not sure how to react to this part of the news. _I stood up and started my nervous pacing. I could feel Liara watching me. I turned to her and saw her open her mouth then close it.

"Wait… There's more, isn't there?"

She nodded.

"I think I should voice out one more of my suspicions. I believe, you had actually met the intruder. It's not Shepard, I assure you." She uttered the last part, when she noticed my rigid stature. Now, it was her turn to pace her office, throwing glances at the whirring screens on the wall.

I thought that this was a bad idea, coming to Liara and showing her what I had to experience every night. But the more it went on, the more I realized that it was the right thing to do. What if this intruder was screwing with my brain and I had eventually gone crazy?

I had once seen a turian that has gone insane. It was during my C-Sec days… I would have never revisited that memory, but now, it occupied my mind, asking for attention.

The day at the office promised nothing out of the ordinary. A couple of cases of people using red sand and jumping others in the lower wards. Simply nothing that could have stood out or made my day a bit more troublesome than usual. And then we received a call. It seemed that drugs were the main theme that day, for what we heard, a turian that had overdosed and apparently went completely insane, had bunkered up in one of the shops and started shooting at people. A group of officers, myself included, were dispatched to solve the problem. It wasn't that hard to get through to the turian – his hand shook as he pulled the trigger over and over again. His aim was off so he soon ran out of thermal clips, tossed his gun over one of the crates and jumped out himself, running towards one of the officers. He was restrained with little to no effort, and it all would have gone by uneventfully if it weren't for the things he shrieked as he was pulled towards the car. He was a turian completely unhinged – eyes bloodshot, his frame frail and gangly. And still… his screams were soul-ripping; my subvocals seemed to ache as I heard all the little notes that his voice was loaded with – grief, despair and so much unrestrained sorrow. And then there was it – before the turian was shoved into the car, I caught it. _Livia._ A name, one comprehensible word that bubbled to the surface of all the shrieking.

When I went back to my office, I did a little research and found out the turian's name. He was Sephius Aranin and had a wife named Livia. Apparently, she went missing, and then she was declared dead. I made a guess that this was what pushed Sephius into drugs. And insanity.

But how could I have not taken notice of that look he gave me then? That one steady gaze that he brought upon me and pierced me with. The look that I recognized in my own eyes when I took in my reflection in the mirror just a few days ago.

"Garrus. Garrus, are you okay?" I saw Liara gazing at me with a look of worry.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

I could see that she was still eyeing me, as if looking for a sign that proved my words wrong. Fortunately, she let it go.

"What worries me, though, is that the intruder didn't feel like an asari… It can't be a Reaper, too, since they were destroyed." Liara went on.

"So what is it, then?" I asked. _Iris told me about Leviathans, but really, they have no reason to bother with me._

"The presence didn't feel overwhelming. In fact, it felt quite…familiar." Once again, she began pacing while I sat down and tried to take it all in.

"There's only one other race that I know of that could mind meld with someone else." Liara mumbled under her breath. "But… it's not possible."

That piqued my interest, "What's not possible?"

Liara turned to me and said, "Protheans could do that… But Javik is gone, isn't he?"

My body froze. _Javik…_

"Truth to be told, we never looked for him. We don't know for sure if he's dead, but if he actually followed through his plan, then he must be."

Liara stopped mid stride. She turned to face me, her face alight with something that I couldn't exactly distinguish. Then, she walked towards me. "That's why it felt so familiar."

Her voice gained volume and strength. I have never seen her so shaken. Not since we had found the last living Prothean, that is.

"That's why he knew about Thane. Drell religion is tied with hanar religion, and hanars had a distinct name for Protheans – they called them Enkindlers. That's why he knew… Unless I am wrong – but it all points to him – Javik is alive! Oh, Goddess!" Liara collapsed into her chair and took her head in her shaking hands.

It took me a moment to catch up. _Javik is alive, too? But how? _

Then I heard it – a silent, barely audible giggle, that soon grew into a laugh. Liara was laughing, and for the second time that day tears ran down her cheeks. When her happiness steadied out, she smiled – a true, genuine and joyful smile. I gave her the turian equivalent of a smile back, I felt something tingle in my chest. Warmth, excitement and…hope?

As Liara looked me in the eyes and I returned the gaze, we both knew what each other was thinking.

_What now?_

* * *

**Sorry for the delay! I had some life stuff to take care of and help a friend write his essay - those are never easy. Also, and it seems a bit weird, but I've taken up a habit for this story - I write down the ending chapters. I do have the whole plot planned out, so even if it takes a while for me to write the middle, I will probably fly through the ending as it is mostly already put down. I just wish that the best ideas would come to me when I'm not trying to fall asleep...**


	7. Departure

_"Sitting here in limbo_  
_ Waiting for the dice to roll_  
_ Yeah, now, sitting here in limbo_  
_ Got some time to search my soul_  
_ Well, they're putting up a resistance_  
_ But I know that my faith will lead me on" - Jimmy Cliff - Sitting in Limbo  
_

* * *

**Alright, dearies! Thank you for sticking around! I bring you... Javik!**

The sadness, the feeling of loss was overwhelming. Above me, below me, surrounding me left and right – it crept towards my own room, latched on to me, and I was quite too tired to try to shake it off. These stifling emotions were not unknown to me. I have suffered great losses in the past. A very far away past… But the slumber was far too short to soothe the pain and quench the anger. It was all over now, I should just let it go. However, as I dipped my hands into the liquid to wash them off, momentarily enjoying the cool feeling of it on my skin, I knew that it will never be quite over for me.

Sighing, I gripped the ends of the table and bent my neck forward, bringing my face inches away from the dark liquid. As the surface of the water smoothed out, a face of the last Prothean stared back at me. Was I really sure of my decision? It's all over for my race, but…

Frustration bubbled inside of me and I splashed the surface, sending my image rippling, features shattering, only to fall back into their rightful places and glare angrily back at me. The death will help me rejoin my fallen comrades. Everything will fall into their rightful places; the galaxy will regain its order. I am not fit to live in this cycle, as it is not mine any more. I have to relinquish it to the little _primitives_ and hope that they will not bring a threat such as the now dead Reapers upon themselves.

I sat down on one of the crates, giving myself away to my senses. Somewhere above me, a human was restless. A Kaidan human. Lately, his steps have become more rapid, more unsure. I felt him stop, his form slumping – the little vibrations indicating a heavy sigh. A clump of energy below me, that belonged to the human James, was reeking of pressurized anger and sorrow – the latter being a new tendency between the crewmates in the ship. Anger was an everyday thing. But I was not accustomed to such waves of the crippling and dark emotion that was sadness.

That's what kept me during the hours when I should have been asleep. As the ship quieted down and everybody retreated back to their quarters, it soon began. The bitter and choking energy descended upon the ship, with most of the residents unable to let their mourning settle down and allow them some shuteye. No. It floated in the air like black clouds of smoke, and I could almost imagine some of the crew staring helplessly at their respective ceilings, wondering why the glory of the victory couldn't outweigh the loss that always seemed quite inevitable and thus, in theory, easy to let go.

But it was not all that, that continuously and slowly droved my consciousness away from the here and now. I settled upon the assumption that it was the feeling of a job that has finally been done. My work here is complete. If it were the case 50,000 years ago, we would have rejoiced and continued to build our empire, slowly growing into something gigantic. Experienced a Golden Age even. But now… I could not see myself a part of this. How many would give it a second thought when I'm gone?

Commander would have. But, she's not here. Seconds before the fight, I succumbed to something that only now I can put into words. It was a dreadful feeling, one that rules out everything else. I wanted to tell someone my thoughts, because it was _fear_ that made me realize that I wanted to be heard. And I was. Commander Shepard listened to me. She heard out my plans – what I would do if I survived. And then, when my words ceased their flow, she heard the ones I left to be unspoken. I could feel that she knew. _She simply knew._ And now she's gone. My secret came back to stay with me again, and it will disintegrate into earth beside me.

As one day raced the other, my conviction grew. I did not want the ship to become my silent grave, so I had to take action. If before I had thought that the sorrow of Kaidan and James were unbearable, I was now proven wrong when night after night my senses were flooded with the grief of the turian. For a long while after the final battle I couldn't feel him and guessed that it must have been a shock that dulled him so. But then, one night, I was awoken by sharp pangs that almost felt like my own. I managed to block him out, but I still heard a distant clang of metal. When the morning finally came, the exhaustion must have knocked him out.

For a brief moment I considered going up to the crew deck and visiting the asari. It was an insane thought, but I was getting desperate for something to do – a distraction of sorts would have helped me to dull my senses that have been so acutely analyzing the emotional state of the ship. For once, I have considered the bliss of the species in this cycle – the silence that they do not appreciate.

And yet, they were damned in other ways. Too preoccupied with personal grief and a certain sense that was not unlikely to the feeling of standing close to the edge of a cliff and knowing that this is the only way forward. Frustration. Boredom, even.

The human pilot, Joker, immersed himself into assessing the damage of the relays. Some were faulty to the extreme, while others were fully functional. It took us a few days before we could safely jump through one of the mass relays and escape the system that we were stranded in for quite some time.

And that's when I knew I had to do it.

It was easy. Too easy. Something inside me screamed for a challenge. No… Not only that. Something that I didn't know clawed at my insides as I slipped through the doors (they gave a quiet swoosh) and found myself in the corridor, and one step closer to my goal.

They wouldn't notice. Of course they wouldn't.

I took the elevator to the shuttle bay. I found the area deserted – not even James and that other human were there. Too preoccupied.

Still, I chose the comforts of the shadows, feeling too exposed even in the dimmed lights of the room. As I passed the weapon workbench, I stopped momentarily. Shotguns, submachine guns, sniper rifles… I took a heavy pistol, weighting it in my hands. Grabbing a few thermal clips, I was about to abandon the area, when I saw it. The Prothean particle rifle. I tucked the pistol in, and reached forward, hands finding the familiar metal. I could not leave without it. And it does not need any thermal clips.

I shook my head – my aim is not survival. '_But what if you decide that it is?'_ an inner voice whispered. Grabbing the particle rifle I turned on my heel and stormed to the other side of the shuttle bay, hoping that my quick motions will somehow alleviate any doubts. Or at least create a situation where it is too late to act on them.

And there they were… I walked past them, to the very last one that was slightly obscured by an armor locker. The escape pods. I was not really accustomed to the human technology so, slightly unsure, I pressed a couple of buttons. My heart sunk when the escape pod came to life, the little lights flickering on through the glass and illuminating the cramped space that promised a one way ticket. Opening it, I climbed in and snapped the door shut. I looked around, taking in the controls, and manipulated them until a screen popped up, asking for a destination.

Where do I even begin to look for the graves of my fallen comrades? I went through my mind, trying to catch a detail, a name, anything that would help in my search. My memory banks proved to be useless… Slowly, I began to feel a slight regret that I never took so much interest in the memory shard – it must contain name upon name of various planets that could grow into a list and I could begin my journey. Frustration resurfaced and I leaned back as much as I could, the walls of the pod restricting movement.

I am no commander. My people have entrusted an important mission to me to restore our race. But I failed. I have fallen short in keeping my comrades alive. And now, my ignorance of my people's history baffles me.

Moments passed by as I sat there, watching the lights on the control panel blink, wasting their energy on nothing. I fiddled around with my gun, heaviness taking control of my body. I knew that the night was coming to an end and someone will surely find me. Then what? I dread their questions, their pitiful looks as realization dawns on them.

I have no other choice but to either take my chances or exit the escape pod and pretend that nothing happened. The latter would not be that hard, anyways.

But my hand rose and my fingers began to plot the destination. I zoomed in the miniature galaxy map, finally setting up a course.

The escape pod released a whoosh, I could feel and see it slowly detaching itself from the ship and slipping into space. What I didn't anticipate, however, was that the ship would suddenly come to life. My fists clenched as I saw the scene unfold before my eyes – Normandy zoomed away, going for a nearby mass relay and then disappearing moments later.

I was on my own now.

* * *

Garrus stretched his back as he walked up the bridge to Joker. The pilot did not face him, however, and seemed to be frantically tapping away at the screens. In the past, it would have raised suspicion, but now Joker was mostly immersed into his work.

Suddenly, he stopped, his fingers no longer reaching for the console. Garrus turned and saw one little light starting to flash a bright red. It blinked a couple of times, then died.

The both men looked at it silently, Joker finally noticing the turian next to him.

"What was that?" Garrus asked, stepping forward and leaning towards the screen.

Joker rose from his seat, a rare sight to be seen nowadays, and limped to where Garrus was standing.

"I believe… That was one of the escape pods launching." He said, after another moment of silence.

Garrus turned to Joker, a look of confusion quite apparent even on his turian features. "Escape pods? But it doesn't make any sense." His brow plates rose, as he continued, "Maybe the Normandy is acting up."

That only brought a scoff from the pilot beside him. "The Normandy _never_ acts up, Garrus. I'm piloting her, remember?"

Then, they heard a set of footsteps lightly scurrying across the bridge. Liara's form came into view, concern marking her features. The pilot and the turian exchanged glances, the former speaking up, "What is it, Liara?"

Her hands clasped together, "Has anyone seen Javik? I wanted to ask him about some of the Prothean data that I was able to piece together." Liara noticed that they exchanged glances again. Furrowing her eyebrows she asked, "Is something the matter?"

Uneasiness descended upon the group. Garrus cleared his throat before breaking the silence, "One of the escape pods launched not too long ago. I think it was a system error, but Joker is of another opinion."

"Yeah, I am. There are no system errors. EDI-" Joker fell short in his sentence. Once again, the tension was brought back to life, but Garrus was quick to react.

"Do you think he could possibly have…" He mumbled, his words thrown to the wind as he rushed to the elevator.

Liara and Joker remained to stand there, not sure of the situation. It was not long before Garrus returned with James. The turian carried a couple of datapads in his hands. Upon reading them it was clear. Javik has left them. Everyone went back to their tasks at hand, each with another heavy thought in their heads, and Liara with a datapad to puzzle over. It was a shock to the members of the crew, yes, but a complete turmoil begun its course in the heart of one young asari.


	8. Carry On

_"Carry on my wayward son,  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more" - Kansas – Carry on Wayward Son_

* * *

The stillness of the space was welcoming to my senses. For a moment I contemplated turning off the artificial gravity and simply floating, my body released from the grips of the force. But I stop my hand, when it is inches from the button. I must focus. The quiet clicking of the escape pod brings some clarity into my mind. Is this how one feels when one is stranded in the vast ocean? When left feels just like right, and up might as well be down. When the horizon is not much of a marker…

This is it, no way to back out of it now. But I feel reduced to a pitiful being full of doubts. I know… there is no help from you. My heart beats like a drum, stomach begins to throb. In the face of my fate I must stand strong.

Luckily, the escape pod is quite the advanced one, even for this cycle. I use the course that I set just a few moments ago (even though it feels like ages have passed), and launch the pod into action. It is not unlike what I had experienced in the Normandy. My body flattens to my seat, the space reduces to a colorful and blinding blur as I speed into the mass relay…

* * *

A pounding headache wakes me up… Sharp twangs steadily pulse behind my eyes, making me groan ad shudder. I take my head into my hands, trying to reduce the pain, but my limbs feel sore, too. I rise into a sitting position which only brings a fleeting moment of relief. I cough and cough - my voice cracks as I attempt to spit out a few words of anger; mouth dry, throat parched – all that I do is bring more pain in that knocks all breath out of lungs in a few ragged gasps.

I simply sit there, trying to focus on one painful region at a time. _Where am I? What happened?_ I forbid myself to panic and instead, cracking one eye open, I look at the controls. Life support is stable, so that's one good thing. It would be rather ironical if the last Prothean was taken down by the lack of oxygen. Or noxious fumes. Though, the pod begins to feel a bit stuffy. Hot even. I carefully shift in my seat and notice that my armor clings to the leather. Is that…?

A sound of wildlife reaches my ears. Birds chirping, loud clicking, shuffling, screeching, thundering noises make me jump. _In the name of the Empire… where am I?_

The thick foliage obscures my view of the foreign world I appear to have landed in. Clenching my teeth and trying to ignore the pain in my limbs, I attempt to kick out the door of the pod. One, two, three, four…The door finally gives in, and, opening with a silent swoosh, throws me into heat, blinding sunlight and humidity. I realize a tad too late, that I am without a breathing mask – my mind goes into a slight panic, before I register that the air is perfectly breathable.

Kicking out the door was one thing, but getting out is quite another. Supporting myself by clenching the sides of the pod, I try to stand up, but my legs buckle and give in. For a split second I sway and then crash down on the ground next to what remains of the pod. The earth welcomes my body, as the latter absorbs the former's heat. I choose this moment to feel around. _Yes, it is a habitable planet. And an old one, too. _

I slowly rise up, firmly planting my feet on the ground and take one good look at my surroundings. I am met by the vast land, grass alternating with sand and dirt. Far ahead, a bit to my left, there is a mountain that seems to stab right through the sky, its top disappearing in a flock of clouds. A thick forest rounds it, and I can make out a small stream running through the heart of it, its glittering waters inviting. They instantly remind me of my parched throat and how good it would be if the water was drinkable.

I reach into the pod and grab my weapons, strapping them to the armor. _There must be a water filter somewhere in there_. My luck holds, and after some digging around, I manage to find a filter lodged in a compartment behind the seat. _It so appears that some attempts in survival will be necessary until I either complete my mission or die trying. Both outcomes are the same._

I make my way down the hill that I landed on, past the heavily grown in bushes. Pulling out my gun I step into the forest and into the unknown.

* * *

_"….I have written down some of the Prothean history. Cultural facts, mostly. Nothing too detailed, but make use of it anyways. For the sake of my own sanity, I didn't dig in deeper. I didn't have to do all of this, anyways. But… I take it upon myself, a responsibility of sorts, to leave something behind for this cycle to analyze. I am no scientist, and I do not find the concept of history particularly useful. But a nosy asari like you might._

_I failed my ultimate mission. I can no longer do it myself, so I thrust it upon you to bring the Empire to glory in history books. Fill in the gap that the Reapers have created. Or I'll take it upon myself to haunt you._

_Javik."_

_He said, 'to haunt you'. Is he ready to…?_

I dedicated my whole life to understanding the Protheans. Years spent in the ruins only brought about the formal knowledge of them, which, as I gather more information, proves to be entirely off the mark. Afflicted with a false idea that I knew them, I overlooked one clue after another. The scraps of evidence that I now possess offer me no insight into their way of thinking. I thought so highly of them, as if they were gods, but their horrifying demise, that was brought upon not only by Reapers, but also by their growing imperialistic nature, stirred a sense of understanding. They were just trying to survive… In the early days, yes, culture might have been the central axis of their lives. But as the Reaper threat loomed over them, a lot was sacrificed for the sake of military training and preparing the Empire for the single biggest battle the Prothean race has ever faced. If I can judge by Javik, it turned Protheans into rigid and highly militaristic beings, their devotion to the cause surpassing that of the turians.

And yet, his letter surprised me. That he wanted to leave something behind and that he entrusted me with this mission. I do not know which part made my heart beat faster, though. One thing that I knew best and could make out in this mess that were my feelings, was that I had been given a sense of purpose again. Something to cling to…. Something that I didn't have when Shepard died the first time.

_Javik… Knowingly or not, you gave me the biggest gift I could ever receive._

But then why I can't bring myself to be happy for it? _He said… He said._

_Does he plan to take his own life?_

When the doors of my office close behind me and the four walls separate me from the eyes of the crew, I slump into one of the chairs. The periodical beep of my omni-tool begs for my attention, but I'm too drained, too empty. I simply stare at the flickering screens as the thoughts run through my head, too indistinct for me to grab one and analyze.

I suddenly remember that I have Javik's datapad – my fingers retaining a death grip on it. So I do what I know best. With a few flicks of my fingers, a line after line of Javik's work and determination opens up before my eyes. He said he was no scientist, but I am immediately taken aback by the way he writes, how he knows what is truly important. One thing perfectly links to each other, and before I know it, I have been sitting in the same pose for more than an hour, my back throbbing, and eyes dry.

And yet, with every hole closed, a new one opens. Questions about their culture race in my mind, but they seem dim and far away.

_Why did he decide that he wanted to leave this world?_

_Is he… is he still alive?_

My eyes rise to meet the screens. I take in the images of the galaxy – so vast, so unwelcome.

_We could still save him!_

My breath jumps in my throat, body springs into motion. _But what right do I have? Garrus understood. Joker did, too. Why can't I let go just as they did?_

And then my knees buckle, sending my body slumping to the ground in a helpless heap of dead hope.

* * *

I turn my head, as a thud reaches my ears. Slowly, but with practiced ease I draw out my gun and aim it at the foliage. I still don't trust my reflexes after the landing, so I fire a few shots at the bushes. The trees create a rippling effect, and the sound echoes throughout the forest, making the wildlife shriek in a hundred of different voices. Cautiously, I walk over the bush, and part the leaves with the barrel of my gun. Reaching in, I pull out a dead pyjak. _The plague of this cycle_. I toss it aside and continue walking.

The heaviness of the full flask reminds me of the all too easy trek to the river. The water was safe to drink, so I didn't even need to pull out my filter. The planet was perfectly habitable… _So where is everyone?_

So far, all I had encountered were those aggravating pyjaks, a few violent varren-like creatures, and too many different birds. But no sign of settlement.

As I walk onwards, I feel weariness catching up to me. Nevertheless, I cannot stop. I cannot rest. I cannot resist the temptation…

I pull out the flask and pour water over my face, catching stray drops in my mouth. The water brings clarity in this humidity, so I trek forwards, hoping to find another source of the precious liquid, so as not to have to backtrack.

As I brush aside the thick foliage, however, a different sight greets me.

A sharp resonates in my brain, and I remember exactly what the structure in front of me is.

I stand before one of the Prothean ruins.


End file.
